


Fate's in This City

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Love/Hate, M/M, New York City, strip club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Louis Tomlinson hasn't seen Harry Styles in ten years - and that's perfectly fine with him.  Until one day Harry shows up at the gay strip club where Louis works, and announces he's working there now too.  Definitely a love/hate/hate/love sort of thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Fate’s In This City**

**Chapter One**

“Hey, love,” Zayn placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder as Louis applied a bit of powder at the vanity, “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Of course, darling,” Louis smiled wickedly, “I was _born_ ready, you know that.”

“Just checking,” Zayn laughed, pulling up a chair from another vanity and sitting next to Louis, “So, according to Joe, we’ve got a newbie on our hands. Apparently tonight is his audition night. Should be interesting. He’s kind of cute,” his eyebrows raised teasingly as he nudged Louis.

Louis rolled his eyes and reached for the black liner, “Zayn, do you ever not think about getting laid? Or _me_ getting laid for that matter? I told you, I’m sort of taking a break from that scene.”

“You work as a male stripper and you’re taking a break from hooking up?” Zayn laughed, “Good one.”

“I’m serious,” Louis applied the black eyeliner, “You remember how bad things were with Jordan...I just don’t want to put myself in any sort of position to get hurt again any time soon. So the new kid is all yours for the taking.”

“Mmm,” Zayn wet his lips, “I’m telling you, darling. He’s something else. So tall. And he’s got this baby-face. It’s unnatural to be sexy and have a baby face.”

Louis rolled his eyes. There were people on the planet who were sexy and had baby faces. Louis could think of _one_ in particular. After finishing his liner, he frustratedly dropped the pencil back into the makeup bag. Where’d those thoughts come from?

“You okay?” Zayn asked.

“Sure,” Louis nodded, checking his reflection in the mirror, “How do I look?”

“Sexy as always,” Zayn clapped his shoulder, “C’mon. You’re almost on.”

“Where is this new kid anyway?” Louis asked, glancing around.

“You know the drill,” Zayn reminded him, “Joe’s got him working tables to start. He goes on stage tonight though for his first stage audition. If Joe approves, he’ll get a slot in the show. If not, he may just stay on as a waiter.”

“One can hope,” Louis remarked.

He didn’t like newbies. He always felt slightly threatened even though he knew he had no reason to feel that way. He owned this club. He owned the show. He was the most requested for private lap dances. He was the one bringing in the most money. No one was going to take that away from him. And he knew that. But still, he that didn’t mean he had to play nice with any new kids on the block.

“Alright, up next we have...Tommo The Tease,” the announcer spoke as Louis adjusted the black pleather bikini bottoms he had on. Tonight, he was a cop. A very sexy cop. The music to “Bad Boys” started up. Louis flashed Zayn a grin and a wink before sashaying onto the stage.

It was a job. But _damn,_ was it a fun job. Louis lived for the crowd going wild for him. Even if they were mostly old, drunk men who had told their wives they were at business meetings late into the night. It was still fun. And Louis wasn’t stupid. He know how good he looked, and how to use that for his advantage. He unbuckled his utility belt and tossed it aside as if it were nothing. The crowd hooted. Louis knew exactly what he was doing and how to use it. How to get the most private sessions and how to get the most tips. The crowd was putty in his hands and it was glorious. Not to mention this job inflated his ever-growing ego even more. Whenever he was on stage, Louis was having a blast playing the crowd and tonight was no different.

He walked down the little cat walk a bit pausing and leaning down to blow kisses at the crowd. A waiter passed by, empty tray balanced on his hip. He turned to the stage and his eyes locked onto Louis’. Louis was sashaying around like he owned the fucking stage - and he _did_. But when he saw those green eyes piercing through the dim lighting, Louis tripped over his own foot. He caught himself before falling and regained his balance.

What the fuck? Surely it’d just been a trick of the light or something. Surely he hadn’t seen...no. It was impossible. _He_ was still in London. There was no way he’d be here in New York at this particular club. It was impossible.

Louis wet his lips, searching for the eyes in the crowd. But the green eyes were no where to be found. Louis chalked it up to a trick of his mind and decided to give the pole in the center of the stage a little attention. He rode it up and down, grinding against it and flashing naughty smiles to the men in the crowd. Searching the whole while for the one man in particular he’d thought he’d seen. Zayn had said baby-faced. Sexy and baby-faced. But it wasn’t possible. There was no way in hell he could possibly be here tonight. Louis’ song finished up and he left the stage without even having taken off his bikini bottoms. Which was okay. It wasn’t a requirement all the time. But for some reason, he just couldn’t. Not that night.

As soon as he was back stage, Zayn pulled him aside.

“You looked flustered out there,” Zayn hissed, “What’s wrong?”

“I...nothing,” Louis shook his head, “Uh...headache is all. I’m just going to go grab a drink from the bar. It should help.” He changed from his stage clothes into a pair of tight skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Thankful to be out of those pleather bikini bottoms.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Zayn asked again.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, “Peachy.”

He snuck out the behind stage exit to the main sitting area. The bar was in the very back of the club. Liam was on stage now, doing a little number where he played the role of cowboy. Louis shook his head and wrapped his knuckles on the bar. Paul, the bartender, grinned when he saw him, “What’ll it be, Lou?”

“Shot of voddy please, Paul,” Louis glanced around nervously.

“Looking for someone?” Paul asked, pouring Louis his shot.

“N-no. Not really. Just thought I recognized someone.”

Paul shrugged and slid Louis his shot. Louis downed it. The vodka stinging the back of his throat. Hie head already felt significantly lighter. He’d been seeing things. He had let his imagination get the better of him. There was no way he’d seen…

“Fuck!” Louis slid the shot glass back across the bar.

He marched over to the waiter with the tray balanced on his hip. His mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him after all. The waiter turned as Louis marched over to him. His hands were balled into fists.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Louis demanded. The familiar face was different. The body was taller. Much taller. Louis actually had to crane his neck upwards when speaking to him. But those green eyes, and that stupid baby-face were the exact same as they’d always been. And Louis was about to lose it. If he weren’t on his job right now, he’d probably fucking punch that baby face square in the jaw.

“Hi,” the voice was still the same. Deep, but with this child-like innocence to it. And for fuck’s sake, the boy was actually smiling. He should know better than that. No one fucking breaks Louis Tomlinson’s heart and then fucking _smiles_ about it.

“The hell are you doing here?” Louis asked, his hand digging into the boy’s upper arm. He knew he was squeezing too hard and was leaving bruises, but he didn’t care. He didn’t give one flying fuck if he hurt him or not at this point.

“Louis, let go,” Harry tried to wriggle free, “You’re hurting me.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Louis repeated, tightening his grip, “I’ll keep hurting you until you give me a god damn answer, Styles.”

“I-I work here now - “

“ - The hell you do.”

“I do!” Harry protested, still trying to wriggle free of Louis’ strong grasp, “Tonight’s my first night. I’m supposed to bus tables to start with. And I get to have a stage audition tonight too. Which is actually coming up soon, so I need to go backstage and…”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can ask Joe,” Harry finally broke free of Louis’ grasp. He inspected the damage done to his arm.

“ _I_ work here,” Louis growled, “which means you _don’t_ work here. Got that?”

“I’m sorry, Louis. I’ve applied for the job. I’m working for sure as a table boy for now. And maybe have my own act soon.”

“This is not happening,” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, “This is not fucking happening. You can’t just waltz into my place of work after ten fucking years and…”

“Excuse me?” Harry raised an eyebrow, “I had no idea you worked here, asshole. If I did, maybe I wouldn’t have applied. But I applied and I’m hired. And I need this job. So you’re going to have to suck it up and deal with it.”

“Tommo, a word,” Joe snapped his fingers from across the room. Louis gave Harry one final glare before going over to talk to his boss. This was not happening. This was not fucking happening. Of all the places Harry could be, why did he have to be here? What were the odds? Probably one in a billion.

“What’s up, Joe?” Louis was still seething after his run-in with Harry.

“I saw you talking to our newbie,” Joe leaned against the pale pink wall of the club, “I want you to be his shadow for the next week.”

Louis felt the bile creep up into the back of his throat, “I don’t think that’s the best idea…”

“I know you’re one of the more popular men I have,” Joe rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “but you also have great customer service and I think you could really be an asset in training Harry. Shadow him for the next week. Teach him the ropes - how to make drinks, how to flirt with the customers. He’s got his stage audition tonight. He’s not ready though. I need him on tables awhile longer, but he’s got to be trained. So why not have him train under the best?”

“I haven’t done tables in months,” Louis protested, and he felt like a child arguing back with a parent. He knew regardless, Joe would have him train Harry. Arguing was useless. But Louis wasn’t one to back down without a bit of a fight, “I’m better than tables and you know it.”

“If you keep that up,” Joe smirked slightly, “All you’ll be doing is tables.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheeks and pointedly rolled his eyes upward, “Fine. I’ll train the little bastard. How difficult can it be? I just watch him and make sure he doesn’t fuck up too bad, right? And then I can go back to stage next week?”

“If all goes smoothly,” Joe nodded, “This will be good for you, Tommo. Your head’s gotten bigger. _Too_ big. See this as a lesson in humility. You may bring in the customers, but I still run this show. Now, go backstage and help Harry prepare for his audition. Psych him up a bit. Kid’ll need it.”

Louis shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed back stage. He swore he could feel the steam coming from his ears. This was absolutely fucking ridiculous. Why was he being punished all because Harry had come along? Seemingly out of nowhere? Pissed off was an understatement.

Backstage, Harry was applying some powder to his face. “I’m supposed to help you,” Louis grumbled, “Shadow you. Which means, I’m off stage for a week because of you. Haven’t even been here a day and you’re already fucking me over.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry attempted, applying a little bit of lip plumper to his already very-red, very-full lips, “It wasn’t my intention. Let’s just try to be civil to one another and get through this week.”

“And then you’ll leave and go back to London and I’ll never see you again?” Louis asked with hateful hope.

“No, Louis,” Harry sighed, “I’m here to stay. I live in New York now. This is my home. You aren’t going to chase me back to London just because you’re still hurt about something that happened ten years ago.”

“Hurt?” Louis scoffed, “Darling, you didn’t hurt me. You have to _care_ about something for it to have the power to hurt you,” Louis smiled wickedly.

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but chose against it. Louis smirked. He was going to do everything in his power to make Harry leave with his tail between his legs for the soonest plane to London. If it was the last thing he did! Harry began to unbutton his black button-up dress shirt.

Louis rolled his eyes and turned around pointedly, “You’re going to suck out there, you know.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, and Louis could hear him unbuckling his belt. Louis felt his heart rate pick up a little. He could hear his pulse throbbing in his ears. This was not happening. Harry Styles was not undressing just a few feet away from him.

“Like it?” Harry asked. Louis turned back around to see Harry in just a shiny gold pair of bikini bottoms. Louis rolled his eyes, not exactly sure how to respond. Harry still looked the same. Just taller. And he still had those damn love handles Louis used to love so much. He swallowed hard and adverted his gaze.

Harry stood at the curtain, waiting for his name to be called. He was bouncing with nerves. Louis remembered his first time on stage. He’d been a wreck. Luckily, he’d had Zayn there to comfort him. But Harry deserved no such similar thing. Instead, Louis came up behind him and leaned in so close that Harry could feel his breath on his ear -

“Break a leg out there tonight, babe. Really. I mean it. Fall on that _fucking_ face.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. But there was no time for him to say anything in response. His name was called. It was now or never. Louis folded his arms across his chest and watched. He was going to make sure Harry knew his eyes were on him. Besides, if he did fall, Louis wanted a front-row seat.

Harry started his act and Louis couldn’t help but raise a brow, impressed. Sure, Harry still had a lot to learn, but the crowd was eating up the “innocent” act he was putting on. Innocent. Louis scoffed. Harry Styles was anything _but_ innocent, despite what he’d have others to believe. Louis had once thought he was innocent and sweet. A lot of good _that_ had gotten him.

Harry walked to the pole, centered it, gripped it, and grinded on it as if he’d done it a thousand times. Louis’ jaw fell lax as he watched Harry on that pole. Well, the innocent act had been thrown out the window in a matter of seconds. Louis massaged his jaw, watching Harry in a stunned silence. This was _not_ happening. Harry Styles was not in New York. He was not at Louis’ club. And he was not giving Louis a run for his money. He just wasn’t. Louis refused to believe it.

And then the little brat did the unthinkable. He actually turned to Louis and winked. He fucking _winked_ at him. And then he wrapped his body around the pole, sliding his tongue up the metal. Louis felt sick to his stomach. This was some sort of cruel joke. The universe hated him. That had to be it. The universe fucking hated him and this was all some sort of terribly cruel joke. Stuff like this just doesn’t happen? You don’t just not see someone for ten years only for you both to wind up working at the same fucking strip club in a whole different country.

After his act, Harry actually courseyed. A very Harry type of thing to do. Louis rolled his eyes as Harry passed by him, a huge smile on his face.

“You’re going to get staph from licking that thing,” Louis commented as Harry threw on a bathrobe and wiped the makeup off his face.

“My tongue’s been in worse places,” he remarked casually as though he was commenting on the weather. Louis felt his ears grow hot.

“Look,” he spun Harry around in the chair so that he was facing him. He placed his hands firmly on the back of the chair, blocking Harry in, “This is _my_ club. This is _my_ job. This is _my_ world. _You_ made a clear choice to not be a part of my world ten years ago. You’re not fucking invited back in. And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you leave and I never have to see your face again.”

“Seems like a part of you didn’t mind seeing me again,” Harry’s eyes dropped to Louis’ crotch of his jeans.

Louis’ breath hitched. Okay, so maybe he’d gotten slightly turned on at the sight of Harry riding that pole. It was only a reflex. Nothing he could voluntarily control.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Louis chuckled flatly, tightening his grip on Harry’s chair, “Now put some clothes on, darling. I’m supposed to shadow you tonight on tables. And I intend to make it absolute hell. So get a move on.”

* * *

Louis’ idea of shadowing was following Harry around, or keeping back with his arms folded. Either way, he was flashing him disapproving glances. He caused Harry to second guess himself for almost everything. It was becoming very difficult to keep up with his tasks. And if he showed any signs of being flustered, Louis was on him in seconds.

“C’mon, Harry. Table three needs their shrimp cocktail and mozzarella sticks. Don’t keep them waiting, darling. It’s quite rude.”

Harry inhaled sharply and pushed past Louis into the kitchen. Louis smirked as Harry passed with the plates of food. And without really even thinking, he stuck his foot out slighty. Harry tripped.

The food, Harry, everything clattered to the floor. Louis bit his lower lip. Okay, that’d been mean. Beyond mean. That’d been cruel. Harry’s pants were splattered with marinara sauce and he looked down at the broken plates and spilled food. For a moment, Louis thought he was going to cry. Fuck. Okay. He should not have done that. What the fuck had he been thinking? Clearly, nothing.

“Harry,” Louis bent down to help with the mess.

“Just go away,” Harry held up a hand.

“Harry...I’m…” Louis was going to say sorry. He was genuinely going to apologize for having taken things way too far.

“ _Fuck you,_ ” Harry spat out the words and they hit Louis like a slap.

“Harry…”

“ _Fuck you,_ ” Harry repeated calmly as he pushed himself up off the floor. He grabbed an empty tray and bent down to pick up the items of food and shards of broken plate, “Just stay the fuck away from me, please? I didn’t _ask_ for you to be working here. And I sure as hell didn’t _ask_ to be put with _you_ as my shadow,” Harry flug the bits of spilled food onto the tray.

Louis had never heard his voice like that before. It was far too calm. Far too collected and smooth. And far too angry. It didn’t even sound like Harry at this point. “Let me help you,” Louis offered, “I’ll go tell table three it was my fault. I’ll tell Joe it was my fault. Just let me do something.”

“You want to do something?” Harry peeled his eyes upward to Louis. And Louis saw that they were red-rimmed, “Just stay the fuck away from me.”

Louis threw his head back and let out a sigh. He hadn’t meant to be that big of a jerk. Really. Sure, he was fine with being an utter ass and chasing Harry away. But what he’d done crossed a line and he felt bad about it. Harry picked up one of the shards of broken plate. Cutting his hand on the sharp edge. Louis groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Playing the part of exasperated when really, he just wanted to pick up the mess he’d caused.

“Here,” he crouched down, “Go wash off your hand. I’ve got this.” Harry stared at the line of blood on his palm. He stood and headed to the kitchen to clean off. He didn’t say anything else to Louis. Louis sighed and cleaned everything up.

Terrific. He’d been a proper jackass without even meaning to go that far. And Harry had no idea the difference. Louis collected the tray and brought it back to the kitchen. Harry was washing off his hand.

“Let me see it,” Louis commanded.

“I said go away,” Harry bit back, the soap was stinging and he was in no mood for Louis.

“Haz,” Louis let the nickname slip before he could even stop it. He hadn’t even uttered that name in over a decade. But Harry was unfazed and Louis inhaled, pretending he hadn’t said that, “Just know that I wasn’t thinking. It just happened and I wasn’t thinking at all.”

“You _never_ think,” Harry’s voice was clipped as he ran the hand under the tap, “About _anyone ever._ You’ve always been so fucking selfish, Louis. You live in a bubble and no one else matters but you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“The hell it is,” Harry shot back, “You were an asshole ten years ago. And you’re an asshole still. You’re _never_ going to change. You’re mean and you’re a bully and…”

“Are you finished?” Louis’ voice was raised now to speak over Harry’s.

“No!”

“Well you are now!” Louis was shouting, “You come in here after about ten fucking years of not seeing you at all and I’m supposed to babysit you and hold your hand and show you the ropes? Fuck that and fuck you. I would have been perfectly happy if I’d never seen your face again. Hell, I _was_ perfectly happy for ten fucking years with never seeing your face.”

“Do you think I like this?” Harry asked?

Louis shook his head, “I just want you on the next plane back to London.”

“Not happening.”

“This is my world. Not yours. _Mine_.”

“Always so territorial,” Harry mused.

“Damn right I am,” Louis jutted out his chin slightly, “When you lose everything, or when people _take_ everything from you, you tend to develop that tendency. Now I admit, making you trip and spill the food and cut yourself was a shit thing to do. I will say that. But I can promise you, Harry Styles, you will leave this club. I will make life hell for you here until you leave and never look back. You’re used to doing that anyway.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Louis continued, “I fucking hate you. And I’m going to see to it that you’re out of my life for good. And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. To make you gone.”

“Shit,” Harry hissed, glancing down at his hand. It was still bleeding. Louis rolled his eyes and frustratedly snatched a clean cloth from a bin next to the ice box. He shook it towards Harry -

“Here,” he said as if it was a huge annoyance to him, “It’s clean. Wrap it around the cut and it’ll stop bleeding soon.”

“I don’t need your help,” Harry frowned, but took the rag anyway. He tried to balance his hand and the rag and tie it around with just his free hand. It wasn’t quite working out and Louis thought he looked rather ridiculous.

“You’re stupid,” Louis sighed exaggeratedly as he snatched the cloth away. He began to tie the bandage around Harry’s hand himself, “Can’t do anything right, can you? Ever. Not even put on a fucking bandage.”

Harry was rolling his eyes and biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to say something and was fighting the urge to keep from doing so. He was supposed to be the calm one. The collected one. The one who could calm Louis down from a tangent or tantrum. But tonight he just wanted it all to be over. He wanted to be away from Louis and back at his apartment in bed pretending this was all one big nightmare.

“Fucking idiot,” Louis mused to himself, checking the bandage.

“No one asked you for your help,” Harry snatched his hand back, “Like it or not, Louis, I am working here. I need this job. I do. And I like it here. It’s fun. And I’m not going to let you take that away from me. So you can stand there with your chest puffed out pretending to be such a big dog when you’re nothing but a little poodle. I’m not going anywhere,” Harry patted Louis on the head.

Oh fuck no.

Louis was always self-conscious about his height. Something he’d confide in Harry in the past. When he was bullied in school because of it, Harry was the one who’d comforted him. How dare he take that and use it as an insult now!

“Little dogs bite more than big dogs,” Louis reminded, “More vicious when it boils down to it.”

“Always did love to bite, didn’t you?” Harry mused.

Louis felt his cheeks grow hot, “You used to _beg_ for me to bite you,” Louis scoffed, “You could beg on all fours now and it wouldn’t matter.”

An evil smile crossed Harry’s face, “I remember. You loved to get in real close, like _this_ ,” Harry broke the distance between them. He ducked his head down, his breath hot on Louis’ neck, “And you’d run your tongue along like _this_ ,” and Harry licked very slowly up the side of Louis’ neck. His jaw twitched slightly, but he stood completely still. Not moving. Not reacting. Not giving in. “And then,” Harry grinned, “You’d…” without warning, he bit down hard on the skin of Louis’ neck. God it hurt. It felt so good. Louis couldn’t help but close his eyes and turn his neck into the bite. He moaned as Harry sucked the flesh, knowing he was leaving a very visible mark. God. What was even happening?

He felt his mind go blank and then suddenly his eyes popped open and he remembered where he was and what was going on.

He shoved Harry off of him and shouted, “The _fuck?_ ”

“Still can make you purr, kitten,” Harry smirked, obviously very proud of himself.

“Fuck you,” Louis covered the mark on his neck with his hand. His head was spinning. That had not just happened. None of this was fucking happening.

Harry just smirked, “You say you’re going to make this hell for me, Lou? Well just watch. Because I’ll make it hell right back.”


	2. Chapter Two

“I hate him,” Louis paced around the loft he and Zayn shared, “I hate him so fucking much I could just murder him!”

“Really now,” Zayn smirked, he raised a bemused eyebrow.

“I do!” Louis was on the defence, “Look!” He pointed at his neck.

“Ah,” Zayn nodded, “A hickey. You haven’t been kissed in a long while. It probably did you some good.”

“It’s _not_ a hickey,” Louis pouted, “It’s a bite. A bite from a menacing little prick who needs to put his ass on the next plane to London ASAP.”

Zayn chuckled, clearly entertained by this, “You two are something else. Really. Just met and you’re already giving each other love bites in the kitchen. Naughty!”

“We did not just meet!” Louis corrected, realizing as soon as he’d said it that it’d been a mistake.

“Do tell!” Zayn was excited. He rubbed his hands together anxiously, always up for some new gossip. Louis rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t he ever just keep his big mouth closed?

“Harry and I...we sort of knew each other. Ten years ago. Back in high school.”

“Juicy!”

“Zayn,” Louis shot him a warning look, “Our families were best friends. His dad and my dad were close. We would go on family trips all of us together. We even had a summer home we’d go to. And Harry and I sort of...we got closer. But his dad was this huge prick about things, so we had to keep it a secret. Which was fun for awhile. But after awhile, not so much. He was my best friend, Zayn. And my first boy. He was a lot of firsts,” Louis blushed, gripping the back of his neck as he continued to pace around, “But then one night his dad caught us. And he pulled us off each other. He sent me home. And I don’t know really what happened after that. The next day at school, Harry wouldn’t even speak to me. If I approached him, he’d just walk away. He wouldn’t answer my calls. And eventually his phone number was changed. He blocked me on social media. I had no means of contacting him. He totally shut me out after that. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. His family cut ties with my family. My parents were always supportive of me and who I was. But Harry? His family told mine that they didn’t want me around anymore. That I was a _bad influence_ or something. Like I’d made Harry _be_ gay. It was so royally fucked up. And then we graduated. And I went to uni for awhile to study drama and when that fell through, I came here. I wanted a fresh start. So I packed up my things and moved here.”

“Wow,” Zayn was trying to process everything, “Well clearly that was Harry’s dad pulling the strings and not Harry. I’m sure Harry didn’t want to cut ties with you - “

“He didn’t even try, Zayn!” Louis cut him off, “He didn’t even attempt to fight against his dad. And he still could have talked to me at school but he didn’t. He didn’t have to totally ignore me like that. It was as if I no longer even existed to him, Zayn. Imagine. One day the person you’re in love with just pretends you’re no longer alive.”

“Wow,” Zayn couldn’t even imagine something like that, “So...love, huh?”

“Yeah, love,” Louis sunk down on the couch next to his best friend, “Darling, it was real. It was _so fucking real_. Until for Harry it just...wasn’t any more. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t fight for us. I just had to let it...die. And it fucking hurt more than anything. But you know, I was finally starting to be okay. A few months ago was the first time in ten years that I actually hadn’t thought about Harry every single day. I could fix a cup of tea without thinking how Harry liked his. I could see a red sweater and not think of how Harry would insist I buy it because ‘I always look good in red.’ And then last night...there he is!”

Zayn nodded, listening intently.

“Darling, he lived in London. What are the odds? I mean, really. Scientifically or mathematically or whatever. What are the odds that I move here and start work at The Palace. And then Harry comes to this country. This state. And also starts work at The Palace. That doesn’t happen!”

“Fate,” Zayn shrugged.

“Excuse me?” Louis turned on him.

“Fate, love. It’s fate. That’s the only explanation. You two are meant to be in the same place at the same time again for whatever reason. And now your job is to figure out what that reason could be.”

“God you’re a fucking sap,” Louis whacked him in the arm.

“Sorry,” Zayn chuckled, “but really. I don’t think there’s any scientific or mathematical explanation for any of this other than it just being fate. Maybe you two are supposed to be together and have this epic love story. Or maybe you’re just meant to be friends. Or maybe you’re just meant to put the past behind you and move forward with your lives.”

“How can I move forward when he’s _here_ ,” Louis put his face in his hands, “I fucking tripped him last night, Zayn. Broken plates and food everywhere. And then as he’s pathetically picking everything up, he cuts his fucking hand. As if I didn’t feel like shit already.”

“Jesus, darling. He didn’t cut his hand on _purpose_.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “I know that. It just feels like he does stuff like that to get under my skin. To make me notice or to make me care. And then what the fuck is this,” Louis pointed to his neck again, “Honestly!”

“He’s just trying to get under your skin,” Zayn poked at the mark and Louis slapped his hand, “Wants to see if he can get a rise out of you and what your reaction will be. It’s probably a game. Like cat and mouse in a way,” Zayn explained, “Either ignore it or play back. Your call.”

“A game, eh?” Louis raised an eyebrow, “I never turn down a challenge.”

“Just...be careful. He’s new to this city and he’s new to this job. Don’t...hurt him too much,” Zayn patted Louis’ knee, “You can have your bit of fun I guess. But just don’t take things too far. That would be bad for both you and Harry.”

Zayn did have a point. He was always so reasonable. Louis sighed and rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder, “I love you,” he said casually.

“I know,” Zayn laughed, “C’mon. We’ve got to get into work for rehearsal.”

“ _You_ have rehearsal,” Louis corrected, “ _I_ have babysitting.”

* * *

At The Palace, Zayn stood with the other dancers to individually run through their acts. New music, new lighting. Louis stood at the bar, leaning against the counter as he watched. He’d been Zayn’s ride and was bored with having to wait around for Harry to arrive. Joe had called him and asked him to be a little more supportive and help Harry out especially with the food orders since those could be complicated. Louis had no idea how to even speak to Harry - especially after last night’s incident. And thanks to the little bugger, he was donning a black turtle neck to hide the mark. He sure as hell wasn’t going to show it off loud and proud for the world to see he’d let Harry Styles mark him as his.

Because he wasn’t. And Harry wasn’t his either.

The doors opened and Harry walked in. He was wearing tight blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a khaki jacket. And pointed toe boots which only made his legs look even longer somehow. Louis thought back to the comment he’d made about Louis being a poodle. He hated how short he felt standing next to Harry. And how he’d let Harry have the upper hand yesterday. Not today though. He was going to reclaim his rightful spot as the dominant one.

“C’mon,” Louis called him over. Harry approached and Louis laid down a glossy menu at the bar, “You’re going to memorize the menu. Considering you’re a table boy. Start with apps and then entrees. Desserts are easy. Drinks are more complicated. And there _will_ be a test.”

“Nice turtle neck.”

“Fuck off,” Louis rolled his eyes, but his tone wasn’t as biting as it would have been yesterday.Talking with Zayn definitely dredged up some old memories and opened up some scabbed over wounds. Louis leaned back against the bar, craning his neck to watch Harry skim the menu.

“The hell are fried cheese nuggets,” he asked to no one in particular.

Louis snorted, “American food.”

“God, it sounds awful,” Harry made a face and continued to skim over the menu.

Louis fumbled with his fingers. There was once a time when he could make Harry laugh until they were both doubled over and could barely breathe. There was once a time they’d been best friends. And a time when they’d been in love. It’d been a decade and Louis had never had anything close to the bond he’d had with Harry with anyone else. Maybe Zayn had been right. Maybe this was all fate. Maybe they were meant to be something. Or at least not be this. This anger towards each other. All Louis wanted to do was to make Harry laugh again. To see the dimples break through on his cheeks. But at the same time, he also wanted to make Harry feel the pain he’d felt ten years ago because of him. It was a royal mess. And Harry wasn’t helping by mouthing to himself as he read over the menu.

Louis was bored and a bored Louis was trouble. He slid around to the other side of the bar and yanked the menu from Harry, “Quiz time.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry protested, “I am still looking over appetizers!”

“Too bad,” Louis was bored and Zayn was practicing and Harry was going to be his entertainment.

“Fine,” Harry took a deep breath, “There’s shrimp with cocktail sauce; mozzarella sticks with marinara sauce; there’s fried cheese nuggets with a side of uh…”

“Mayo sauce,” Louis offered.

“Ew.”

“Yeah.”

“What even is that?”

“Best not to ask,” Louis made a face, “Continue.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Louis hadn’t totally slaughtered him for forgetting the side of mayo sauce, “There’s also spinach artichoke dip with a side of tortilla or pita chips. And nachos.”

“What’s on the nachos?” Louis raised a brow.

“Beef or chicken, beans, and jalapenos.”

“You forgot the cheese,” Louis remarked, handing the menu back, “Step it up, Styles.”

“I didn’t think I had to _specify_ there’d be cheese on the nachos.”

“Study the entrees now,” Louis turned the page in the menu, “and don’t mess up this time.”

Harry sighed and went back to reading. Louis smirked. He had to admit, it was kind of fun to be around Harry again and to watch him get a little flustered with himself. And with Louis. One thing Louis missed - among hundreds others - was teasing Harry. He could do that all day long.

“Alright,” Harry said after a moment, “I think I got it.”

“You sure?” Louis raised a skepitcal eyebrow, leaning forward over the bar, “Because if you get one wrong, you are eating a whole spoonful of the mayo sauce.”

“Uhh…” Harry slid the menu closer, “Maybe just _one_ more look-over.”

“Good lad,” Louis almost could feel a smile twitching at his lips but regained his composure. He reminded himself that he still hated Harry and all the pain he’d caused him. But it was so much easier to hate Harry when he was across an ocean and not three feet away. Fuck.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. One text from Zayn. Louis looked to Harry who was engrossed in the menu. He clicked on the text and read, “You’re staring at him so hard I’m concerned you’ll start drooling on yourself. Buy a bib, babe.” Louis deleted the text and peeled his eyes to Zayn who was next in line for the stage. Zayn just smiled and gave a small wave. Louis made a mental note to kill him later. God, Zayn could be such a _fanboy_ sometimes!

“Menu quiz!” Louis snatched the menu, “And...go!”

Harry rolled his eyes but rattled off the entrees like it was nothing. He didn’t even leave anything out or forget anything. Louis had to admit, he felt a small sense of pride that Harry had gotten everything correct.

“Impressive,” Louis raised an eyebrow, “Now then, we’re going to practice. I’m going to sit over there and pretend to be a customer and you, darling, are going to serve me.” He called everyone ‘darling’ or ‘love’ or ‘dear’ so there really was no big deal behind it. Harry nodded and Louis took a seat at a table. He was going to be the surliest customer he could imagine!

“Good evening, sir,” Harry approached, “Welcome to The Palace. Here’s a menu. I’ll let you look over that and then be right back to take your drink order.”

“C’mon,” Louis rolled his eyes, “Haz, this is a _strip club._ The clients expect a little bit more... _service_. Get my drift? Flirt a little. Make them feel like you’re there just for them. It helps you get big tips too,” Louis would know. When he’d worked tables, he’d been the best.

“O-okay,” Harry stammered. Not sure really how to go about that.

“Get in _character_. It’s a character. This is all a big show from the moment you walk in here, love. Lean forward. Stick that little ass out a bit. Croon a little. You’ve got this.”

“O-okay,” Harry nodded again. Not trying to think too hard about the comment about his ass.

“Good evening, sir,” Harry leaned in a little, he rested a hand on Loui’s leg, “Welcome to The Palace. Here’s your menu, love. I’ll just give you a moment to look over that. I’ll be right back to take your drink order,” he leaned in a little more and whispered into Louis’ ear, “Just let me know if you need _anything at all_ , love.” Louis tried not to shiver, but it was hard.

He cleared his throat and nodded to regain composure, “Nice. Better. You’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand if you keep that up!”

“You think?” Harry’s eyes lit up. Louis waved his hand dismissively as he peered over the menu,

“I thought you were leaving me to look over the menu.” He was back in character. Harry sighed and stepped back, giving Louis time to decide what he wanted to order.

After a moment, Harry went back over to Louis’ table, “Have you decided what you’d like, love?”

“Depends,” Louis sneered, “How much are you, baby doll?”

“What the hell?” Harry took a step back.

“ _Stay in character,_ ” Louis hissed under his breath. Harry sighed. Well, at least this was good practice.

“Too expensive for you, I’m afraid. But might I suggest the fettuccini. It’s more in your budget.”

“Nice!” Louis’ brows shot up. He was seriously quite impressed with that. Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry too much over Harry after all. Not that he was going to in the first place…

“Really?” Harry preened.

“Yeah. You’re a natural!”

Harry made a small face, “I thought when I was taking this job I’d be a dancer on stage. Not a table boy.”

“We all start somewhere,” Louis motioned for Harry to sit down across from him. He did. “I started as a table boy too. When Joe decides you’re ready, he’ll give you a slot in the show. But for now you have to pay your dues. It’s not so bad. Tips are good.”

“True,” Harry nodded. He’d taken home far more in tips than he’d expected last night.

“Now then, if any of the customers get handsy, you go to the front and tell the bouncer, Drake. He’ll take care of them.”

“Does that happen?” Harry’s eyes widened slightly.

“Sometimes,” Louis nodded. It’d happened to him more than he was going to admit to Harry though, “They aren’t allowed to though. So if it happens, let Drake know and he’ll toss them.”

“Thanks,” Harry’s eyes lowered and Louis caught himself staring at the long, sweeping lashes.

“Just doing my job,” Louis shrugged, “If you do well, I get to go back on stage. If you suck, I’m still stuck on table duty.”

“Oh,” Harry’s eyes fell again.

“Why’d you want this gig anyway?” Louis asked, leaning back a bit in his chair. It was nice talking to Harry and not yelling at each other.

“I wanted to work some place fun,” Harry admitted, “Not the usual coffee place or flower shop. I wanted to work somewhere like this. The dancing and fun music!”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, sounded just like Harry.

“And I like how it’s nudity-optional.” Louis nodded again.

“When did you move here?” He asked from nowhere.

“Like a week ago,” Harry blushed, “That’s why I need this job so badly. Because I need to meet my rent. It’s so expensive here. That’s also why I wanted to work here. I can make more in tips than I could at any other job.”

“True,” Louis nodded again. He enjoyed listening to Harry talk. It had been so much easier to hate him when he was out of sight. Now that he was here, Louis found himself enjoying Harry and the little things he’d do. Like tap his fingers on his lips or sweep his fringe from his eyes with the shake of his head.

“Louis Tomlinson, you are the _rudest_ boy in the whole world!” Louis glanced up. Zayn was headed their way, finished with his rehearsal. Great. This was the last thing Louis needed at the moment.

“I can be, but specify why now,” Louis blinked as Zayn slid into the seat in between Louis and Harry.

“Because you haven’t introduced me to the new kid yet,” Zayn winked to Harry and held out a hand, “Zayn,” he offered.

“Harry,” Harry said.

“He’s a cutie,” Zayn said to Louis who wanted to facepalm. This was totally embarrassing and Zayn knew it. Louis thought of a million ways to kill him but decided he’d miss him to much if he did.

“Zayn,” Louis rolled his eyes, “Don’t embarrass him.”

“Don’t embarrass him, or don’t embarass _you_ , Lou?”

“Stop,” Louis pouted. Things had actually been going okay before Zayn had decided to sit his happy ass down with them. Louis folded his arms over his chest as Harry and Zayn began to talk and laugh and bond. This was bad. Louis kicked his feet under the table. Why had Zayn had to come over anyway? He started to feel like a fucking third wheel. Which was ridiculous because Louis Tomlinson was _never_ a third wheel.

“He still does that!” Zayn answered a question Harry’d asked. Louis’d been too pouty to listen until that moment. They were talking about him. The little shits. He tried to listen more carefully as Harry said -

“He used to say the most ridiculous things.”

“Oh the other night, he was saying that Barney was chasing him and he was saying ‘No Barney...I don’t want to hug you!’”

Both Zayn and Harry burst into a fit of laughter. Okay, so it was kind of good hearing Harry laugh like that again. But certainly not at his own expense. Louis cleared his throat, drawing the attention back on him. He swore it was like the two had just remembered he was there.

“Uh…” Zayn looked nervously to his hands, “So...talking in your sleep has always been a thing?”

God damn it. Louis made a mental note to kill them both.

“I hate you two,” he said, pointing a finger at both of them.

“Oh yeah,” Harry grinned, “He once confessed his undying love for Daniel Radcliffe in his sleep once.”

“You’re dead,” Louis nodded as plain as day, “Both of you.”

“Oh hush,” Zayn patted his arm, “I’m having fun getting to know your friend. Don’t be a Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

Louis let out a growl from the back of this throat. These two together was a huge mistake. Louis was realizing this. He was totally outnumbered.

“And the mess he makes!” Zayn remarked, “Clothes everywhere!”

“Okay!” Louis chirped up, “Zayn, don’t you have _anywhere else_ to be right now?”

“Darling, why don’t you be a doll and go get Harry and me some cocktails before work starts. I’m enjoying his company.”

“Sure. I bet you are,” Louis scowled, but went to the bar anyway to prepare the drinks. It was weird seeing Harry and Zayn interact. And talk about him. These were the two people in the whole world - besides his family - that Louis cared the most about in his life. Or did at one point. And they were hitting it off like old chums. That was either really good or really bad.

Louis prepared three cocktails and went back over to the table. Harry and Zayn were laughing like they’d known each other for years. Harry did have that power over people, Louis mused.

“Your drinks,” Louis set the glasses down and took his seat.

“Thanks, darling,” Zayn smiled up at him, “So, while you were kindly making us these delicious drinks, I may have done something.”

Uh-oh. Louis didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“What did you do, Zayn?” He asked nervously.

“Well, I invited Harry over after work tonight for a game of Mario Kart and drinks.”

Shit.

“That’s okay with you, right?” Zayn asked, pressing his knee to Louis’ as if daring him to argue.

“Uh...yeah,” Louis lied, not wanting to incur Zayn’s wrath if he said no, “Sure thing.”

“Great,” Zayn squeezed Harry’s hand and Louis wanted to slap it away, “We can all drive over after work.”

Louis downed his cocktail. Well, this was going to be interesting...


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. I was feeling so sleepy and glanced over at the clock and it's 5am! Where does the time go?? Anyway, thanks for reading. I'll update with a longer chapter in the morning :)

“He pressured me!” Harry swore, chasing after Louis during the show, “I swear! If you don’t want me to come over, I won’t. Zayn just made it sound fun. But if you have a problem with it, just let me know.”

Louis inhaled sharply. Harry was following him around like a puppy and it was annoying. Who’s the poodle now? 

“Fine,” Louis turned on his heel, facing Harry, “I don’t want you to come over.”

“Oh,” Harry’s face fell slightly.

“But, if I keep you from coming over, Zayn will kick my ass. So it looks like you’re coming over. Lucky me,” Louis rolled his eyes, “Table four needs their drinks refilled.”

Harry grabbed one of the pitchers of iced tea and walked over to the table. Louis leaned against the bar and watched the show on stage, longing to be up there shaking his ass to whatever song he’d chosen for this week. But no. He was on the floor, on tables, watching over Harry fucking Styles. It was so beyond stupid that it hurt.

Harry finished with table four and hurried back over to Louis, “Are you sure? I can fake a stomach ache or something. Tell Zayn I’m not feeling well…”

“Then he’ll think I poisoned you or something,” Louis rolled his eyes, “You’re coming over rather I like it or not. Just like you’re working here rather I like it or not.”

Harry wet his lips, not sure really what to say to that. The tables all had their food orders and no orders were to be taken after the first show. He leaned against the bar, leaving a good bit of space between himself and Louis. He wished he could be on that stage too. Just like last night.

Louis was being a bit of a prat. He softened a little and nudged Harry with his elbow, “That’s Liam,” he nodded to the stage, “He’s pretty good. I can introduce you tonight. Then you’ll know three people instead of just two.”

“Thanks,” Harry blushed.

Liam was in a hard hat and nude colored bikini bottoms. His song was starting up. Macho Man. Louis couldn’t help but laugh as Liam started to swing a sledge hammer around. Good Lord, that kid always had the corniest acts. Not that they weren’t all corny, but Liam especially.

“When I was a kid,” Harry leaned in slightly, “I used to think this song was Nacho Man. I heard it once on TV and I swore that’s what it was. So one day I’m in my room and I’m dancing around singing at the top of my lungs, ‘Nacho, Nacho Maaaan! I wanna be a Nacho Man!’ My dad walked in. Thought he was going to kill me until he burst out laughing.”

Louis tilted his head back and laughed. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t know if it was the thought of a young Harry Styles singing ‘Nacho Man’ or the thought of Mr. Styles’ face upon seeing that. But it was hilarious and Louis was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. Harry was laughing too, and they leaned into each other just slightly. Gravitating.

“God,” Louis wiped the corner of his eye with a knuckle, “I’d pay big bucks to see your dad’s face then.”

“It was _priceless_ ,” Harry chuckled.

“How old were you?” Louis asked, “Like seven or eight?”

“More like thirteen.”

“Jesus!” Louis laughed harder, “Well, I’m never going to be able to hear this song the same again.”

He had to admit, it was nice getting to laugh with Harry again. It’d been too long since they’d laughed together. Way too long. Louis bit his bottom lip, trying to remind himself why that was. And it _certainly_ hadn’t been by any fault of _his_.

Suddenly, he stiffened slightly at the thought and turned away slightly from Harry. He was letting himself get close again. And that was dangerous. Louis thought back to what he’d just told Zayn about staying out of the dating or hook up scene. Louis’ last relationship - with a boy named Jordan - had ended miserably. And Louis had decided the only way he wasn’t going to get hurt was to not let himself be put in a position to get hurt. He needed to distance himself from Harry. The laughing and talking...it was all too similar. And history had a way of repeating itself.

Louis was not going to let Harry Styles break him again. He just wasn’t. Not after he’d finally got all his pieces glued partially back together.

“Paul,” Louis wrapped on the bar, “Voddy.”

Paul poured him a shot and Louis downed it. Yeah, he definitely needed to put some space between himself and Harry. Which was going to be hard since Joe had made him shadow...and since Zayn had decided he and Harry were basically kindred spirits.

“I’m going to check on Zayn,” Louis set the glass down, “Don’t fuck up too much while I’m gone.”

He slipped back stage, eager to just get away from Harry if even for a moment. Zayn was applying some glitter in the outer corners of his eyes at his vanity when Louis approached him. He slumped into an empty chair next to Zayn and heaved a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asked, not taking his eyes off his reflection.

“Harry fucking Styles is what’s wrong,” Louis sighed again, “We laughed.”

“Oh no!” Zayn gasped, “The horror!”

“You don’t get it,” Louis played with a bottle of glitter nail polish, painting his thumb nail thoughtfully, “It’s dangerous to let myself do that. I’m getting close again, Zayn. And I know if I do I’m just going to get hurt again. And I can’t do that. I barely survived the last time.”

Zayn leaned closer to the mirror to inspect himself, “You’re reading too much into things, darling. Really. What happened ten years ago happened ten years ago. Circumstances were different then. But things have changed. You and Harry have changed. Maybe you should just roll with it and see where it goes,” Zayn suggested, “You never know.”

“I’m going to get hurt,” Louis pouted, blowing on the thumb nail.

“You don’t know that,” Zayn t’sked, “From what I’ve seen, Harry is a great guy. Funny and smart and genuine and sweet. And the way you two are together. Even if you aren’t speaking or looking at each other, there’s an energy between you two. You two, like, orbit each other. It’s crazy. But I’ve never seen two people that aware of each other. It’s pretty neat to watch.”

“Fucking sap,” Louis put the nail polish back on the vanity.

“He’s still coming over tonight, right?” Zayn glared at Louis, “You didn’t say or do anything to scare him away did you? Because I like the boy and I want the three of us to be friends.”

“I told him I don’t want him to come,” Louis admitted, “but that if I stopped him, you’d kill me.”

“You’re damn right,” Zayn adjusted his hair, “We’ve both been new to this city, Louis. But we had each other to get through. Harry has no one. We should be friends with him and make him feel welcome and watch out for him. You know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Sure,” Louis rolled his eyes, but Zayn was right. It was the right thing to do.

“Now get back out there with your boy and help him through the shift.”

Louis protested, “He’s not...he’s not _my_ boy.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Zayn smiled.


	4. Chapter Four

When Louis went out to the front of the club, Harry was nowhere to be found. He gritted his teeth and searched around. It wasn’t like he’d be hard to miss, he was like Sasquatch-stature. But Harry was not anywhere to be seen among the other waiters and table boys. Louis was growing frustrated. Babysitting Harry was his job. How could he do his job if Harry had just taken off? Louis grabbed one of the other table boys by the elbow.

“Ow,” the boy tried to squirm out of his grasp, “Get off, Louis!”

“Harry,” Louis said, his voice beyond angry, “Where is he?”

“Harry?” Louis sighed as if this was a huge inconvenience for him. Which it was.

“Yes. Harry. The new kid. Very tall. Kind of clumsy.” Royal pain in the ass.

“Oh,” the table boy seemed to finally remember, “Yeah, I think I saw him take off to the bathroom.”

“Wonderful,” Louis dropped the kid’s arm and headed to the bathrooms.

Really, how unprofessional could Harry be? They had breaks for this sort of thing. He couldn’t just take off mid-shift to go use the toilet. He had tables to serve, and this whole thing was going to reflect very poorly on Louis. He opened the bathroom and checked under the stalls. In the handicapped stall he saw a pair of legs tucked up on the floor.

“Harry?” Louis pounded on the door.

“Go away.”

“No,” Louis was furious now, blood boiling, “You have a job to do and you’re in here. This is not looking good, Harry. For you or me. Joe will have my ass if he thinks I haven’t done a good job at training you...why are you on the fucking floor?” Louis rattled the stall door and Harry undid the latch. Louis opened the door to find Harry crumpled against the wall of the stall on the floor. He looked up at Harry, his eyes red-rimmed. Okay, Louis had not been expecting that. All logic told him not to do it. To just keep his distance. But within seconds, he was kneeling on the gross tile floor checking Harry over for any damage.

“What happened?” Louis asked, grabbing his chin and inspecting him, “Did someone hurt you?”

“N-no,” Harry batted his hand away, “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Louis was growing impatient, “Well too fucking bad. You’re crying on a bathroom floor. We’re talking. Now tell me what happened, Haz. Did someone hurt you? Do something to you?” Louis thought back to the times when customers had been overly grabby with him.

“It’s just…” Harry took a deep breath, “...this one guy. He kept asking me inappropriate things. He didn’t actually touch me so I didn’t think I needed to get Drake. But the questions he was asking...it was obscene. And I just decided to ignore him and get my job done. And then he did this,” Harry waved a hand over the crotch of his pants. They were soaked, “The poured his beer on me.”

“God,” Louis winced, “Please tell me you got Drake then?”

“Yeah. The guy’s gone now. It’s just...nothing like that’s ever happened to me before. Louis, the questions! The things he wanted from me! It made my stomach churn. This isn’t what I thought it’d be,” Harry tossed his head back against the wall, “I wanted to be a dancer on stage. At least on the stage, there’s distance between you and the drunk idiots.”

Louis nodded. Without thinking he brushed a matted strand of hair from Harry’s eyes, “You’ll be okay though,” Louis said, “It happens to all of us. Not saying it’s right, it’s just...part of the job.”

“I just wish Joe would believe I was good enough to go on stage.”

“Hey,” an idea popped into Louis’ head, “How about we work on a routine for you. I can help you. Everyone knows I’m the best performer here,” Louis grinned with pride, “I’ll teach you a routine. Then I’ll convince Joe to give you one more shot at a slot in the show. How’s that?”

“Why would you do that for me?” Harry asked, which sort of pissed off Louis. It wasn’t like Harry was a total stranger to him. They had shared four years together when they were teens. That still meant something to Louis even if it meant nothing to Harry.

“Because I’m not a total asshole,” Louis smirked, offering a hand to Harry, “C’mon. Let’s get back to work. I’ll be a better shadow. If anyone wants to mess with you, they’ll have to get through me first.”

Harry smiled shyly. He didn’t understand why Louis was being so kind, but he wasn’t going to curse it by being a jerk about it. Louis offered him a hand and helped Harry up off the floor.

“You’re a mess,” he said, clicking his tongue, “Come here.” Louis grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the cool tap. He waved Harry over, and he gently pressed the damp towel to Harry’s cheeks and nose, “Can’t have you lookin’ like that,” Louis smirked, “Gotta clean you up a bit. Make you look proper. No one’s going to tip you if you look like you’ve just spent all night crying in the bathroom.”

“Thank you,” Harry’s voice was barely a whisper. He was still surprised by Louis’ gentleness. It was quite unexpected, even for Louis. He himself was wondering what the hell he was even doing. The only thing he could think was what Zayn had said earlier - _your boy._

“Don’t even mention it,” Louis tossed the paper towel into the garbage, “All better,” he reached up and adjusted the collar of Harry’s button down. He wasn’t even thinking at this point. Just doing. All logical thoughts of keeping distance and not getting involved were long-gone out the window. Why did Harry have this power over him? Like he needed Louis’ protection, like Louis needed to protect him? “We’re missing shift and Joe’s gonna be pissed. C’mon,” Louis grabbed Harry’s wrist and then as if in that moment he finally realized what he was doing, dropped Harry’s wrist.

He looked down at his Vans awkwardly. This was weird. But they’d past weird a long time ago - Louis thought of the mark on his neck. He wasn’t wearing a turtleneck, just a tight black v-neck. The mark was quite visible. Had he picked that shirt on purpose? His head felt swimmy.

“Fuck,” Louis turned to the sinks, and slammed both fists down on the counter.

“What?” Harry asked, coming up behind him.

“Just... _you_ ,” Louis growled, “You always have this...power over me. And I hate it. It’s been ten fucking years, and I still am losing my mind over you.”

Well now that that was out in the open…

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, gently placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder, but he shook it off angrily. Harry stepped back, not wanting to get too close if that wasn’t what Louis wanted.

“Are you kidding?” Louis laughed a dry laugh, “God, Harry. You’re fucking daft if you don’t realize. I have _never_ been over you. I _will_ never be over you. I’m a mess with you here. I wish you’d never come here. At least with a fucking ocean between us, I could hate you. But with you here I can’t even pretend I hate you. Even after everything you did to me.”

“What did I do to you?” Harry asked. That was a mistake. Louis spun on a heel and glared daggers into Harry. If you could murder someone with a glance, Harry would be six feet under. Louis jabbed a finger in his chest.

“Don’t even fucking ask me that! If you have to ask, then you’re more of a prick than I thought,” Louis let out some sort of growl from the back of his throat and marched back out to the dining area.

He couldn’t be there with Harry alone in that bathroom again. He could never be alone with Harry anywhere ever again. He couldn’t trust himself. Couldn’t trust his feelings. Louis leaned against the bar and made small talk with Paul while he watched Harry scurry about between tables. He was shooting confused glances Louis’ way, but Louis pretended not to even notice his stares. He couldn’t believe that Harry could be so stupid. He’d completely destroyed Louis, and he didn’t even know it? How could he not know it? Louis was pissed. How could Harry be so thoughtless? Had he really no idea what cutting ties completely with Louis out of nowhere had done to him? Louis folded his arms over his chest and watched Harry clear a table. As he passed by, Louis said -

“Fuck you,” his voice was so chilling and it was as if he spat out the words as though they were bad tastes in his mouth. Harry propped the bin on his hip and shook his head, walking past Louis without even a comment in return. He looked utterly defeated. But Louis sure as hell wasn’t finished with him yet. He was going to fucking make Harry remember if it was the last thing he did.

Zayn took the stage now. Louis whooped and hollered louder than anyone else, just like he always did when Zayn took the stage. Zayn grabbed his gaze and shot him a wink. Just like Zayn to always brighten his mood a tad. Louis leaned back against the bar and eyed Zayn’s performance. He definitely had spark. Louis thought back to his promise he’d made to Harry. Well he sure as hell wasn’t going to go through with that now.

As Harry was standing at the cash register, Louis came up behind him and pinched the skin right above his elbow. Harry winced and covered a yelp by biting down hard on his lip.

“Do you wanna know what you did?” Louis asked, a seething smirk on his face, “You froze me out, H. I was fucking in love with you. My mistake. Should have known never to fall with you. You know, we were together for five years. That’s not exactly nothing. Or at least it wasn’t to me. Maybe to you it was just all a game. But to me? I fucking loved you, you asshat. But then after your dad caught us, you were just done. I couldn’t even call you. You changed your number. You stopped speaking to me entirely and pretended like I never existed in the first place. Do you know what that fucking did to me?” Louis tightened his pinch on Harry’s arm and Harry was wincing more visibly now.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he hissed.

“There’s always a choice, _darling_ ,” Louis pinched even harder and Harry let out a cry, “You could have said something to me at school - anything. But you didn’t. Each time I approached you, you’d walk the other way. It fucking killed me. You were my first everything. And I was in fucking love with you. Well joke was on me I guess,” Louis dropped Harry’s arm as if it’d burned him, “Not letting myself get hurt like that again, _ever_.”

“Louis…” Harry clutched at his arm, “Louis, listen to me…”

“No. You have _nothing_ to say to me. You had nothing to say then, so you have nothing to say now. I’m the one who’s finally getting to talk and god damn it, Harry! You’re going to fucking listen! I was actually starting to get over you, you know. Took me ten fucking years, but I was starting to. And then you prance in here and wreck everything all over again. And I’m starting to fall for you again and then you,” Louis reached around and pinched the skin above Harry’s hip almost harder than his elbow, “have to even ask what you did to me in the first place!”

“You’re _hurting_ me,” Harry somehow managed to keep his voice as quiet and calm and level as possible.

“Not as much as you hurt me,” Louis commented, but let go of Harry anyway, “God, I want to hate you so much. I can’t even look at you without my blood boiling.”

“Can I explain?”

“You lost all right to explain when you didn’t ten years ago,” Louis shook his head and walked backstage to meet Zayn.

He needed to distance himself from Harry or he was worried he’d do something more than just pinch him. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at a chair in passing. When he finally was behind stage, he started pacing back and forth. Zayn was changing into his street clothes.

“Now what?” He asked, without batting an eye.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Okay,” a small smile twitched at Zayn’s lips as he danced into his skinny jeans, “I’ll get a shovel to bury the body.”

“Stop! I’m being serious!” Louis actually stomped his foot. Realizing what he’d done, he slowly peeled his eyes to Zayn who was sucking in his lips and staring at Louis with a bemused look on his face. “Don’t even say anything about that,” Louis held up a threatening finger, “God damn it! He had the nerve to ask me what’d he done to me. Can you believe that?”

“He probably meant recently,” Zayn shrugged on his jacket, “Like in the last two days. Not in the last ten years, darling. Really, you’re shit at reading people, love.”

Louis pouted, “Well he’s sure as hell _not_ invited over now.”

“Of course he is. You can go the diner for a burger or something,” Zayn shrugged casually, “But I want to have Harry over. I like him. He’s sweet and funny and I’m going to be friends with him. I’ve already decided it. And you can either put on your big boy pants and deal with it, or you can go hide out at the diner.”

“Could I just stay in my room then?” Louis asked, not enjoying this one bit. Of course Harry would weasel his way in with Zayn. Then again, it was Harry. He could make anyone love him. One of his more frustrating qualities if you asked Louis.

“Sure love.”

* * *

Zayn collected Harry after shift and three headed to Zayn’s car. Louis was headed for the passenger side when Zayn stopped him, “Harry, you’re up with me. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

Louis shot him a death glare but took his spot in the back seat. He couldn’t exactly be mad at Zayn. He’d done the same thing for him when he’d first moved here - made him feel welcome and special and looked after and cared for. And Harry did need looking after. But Louis sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.

Harry plugged the AUX cord into his phone, “I have several playlists,” he said shyly, “how’s 80s sound?”

“Fucking awesome is what,” Zayn rubbed Harry’s shoulder. Louis kicked the back of Zayn’s seat.

“Lewis, quit it,” Zayn glared at him in the mirror, “Okay, Harry. 80s it is. What song is first?”

“Uh...Don’t Stop Believing.”

“ _Epic,_ ” Zayn grinned, flashing Louis a smile.

It was one of Louis’ favorite songs. All three of them in that car knew that. Louis kicked Zayn’s seat again. This was fucking awful. Everything about this was fucking awful. The music started up. Both Harry and Zayn started singing perfectly together. Huge smiles on their fucking faces. Louis folded his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to sing along. Nope. Not a chance in hell.

“Strangers! Waiting! Walking down the boulevard!’ Their shadows searching in the niiiight!” Louis kicked Zayn’s seat again.

“Lewis, I will pull this car over!” Louis grumbled. But stopped kicking. Besides, it should be Harry’s seat he was kicking, not Zayn’s.

He just wanted to go home, crawl into his bed, throw on some music, and pretend none of this was happening. This was not his life. They pulled in the parking garage of their loft. Zayn swung an arm over Harry’s shoulders as they headed up to their loft. Louis was looking angry and bitter. They were almost to their loft. Then he was going to go to bed. At least he could dream that Harry was in London and not slowly hijacking his whole life.

“This is us,” Zayn unlocked the door, “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Alright, while you two _bond_ or whatever, I’m going to go to bed.”

“Fine,” Zayn shrugged, “We don’t want your grumpy ass out here with us anyway. Do we, H?”

Harry just looked at his shoes and Louis shook his head, “Screw the both of you,” he mumbled, heading to his room and slamming the door shut.

His room was like a haven. It was the one place Harry couldn’t touch - considering he already took over his job, his best friend, and now his loft. Louis changed into sweat pants and a clean shirt. He tossed himself onto his bed and sighed. Home sweet home. If he closed his eyes real hard, he could almost pretend Harry wasn’t here. _Almost_. But he’d forgotten to make his tea. And he couldn’t go to bed without a cup of tea. He glared angrily at his bedroom door. He could just hunker down and make due without his tea. And not get any sleep. Or he could go out there and make his tea, and face seeing those two goons be all chummy with each other. And be able to get some sleep. Louis grumbled and got out of bed. Tea it’d have to be.

“The fuck are you two doing?” He asked, spying a familiar movie on the TV.

“Watching Saw,” Zayn said as if it were nothing, arm draped behind Harry as if it were nothing.

“Saw?” Louis squinted at the TV, and then without thinking, said, “Harry hates horror movies.”

“You know,” Harry turned to him, acknowledging him for the first time in hours, “I’m a big boy. I can handle it, Louis. I’m not fourteen anymore.”

Louis grumbled something and began to set a pot to boil, “Don’t come whining to me when you can’t sleep tonight,” Louis rolled his eyes, but no one had heard him.

He went about his business, fixing his tea. Wondering what the hell had happened to Mario Kart. Mario Kart was safe. Mario Kart wasn’t going to keep Harry up all night. Once the water boiled, Louis fixed himself a cup and tossed in a tea bag. As he waited for it to steep, he leaned against the threshold and watched part of the movie. This was the first Saw. So it was somewhat decent. But still, creepy as fuck. There was no way Harry wasn’t totally shitting himself right now. Louis rolled his eyes. Zayn should have known better than to show Harry that sort of movie.

Once his tea was finished, he headed back to his bedroom. Done with everything. He sunk into his bed and sipped his tea. The sounds of the movie echoing through his walls. Zayn didn’t know Harry. Louis knew Harry. And Harry was going to be freaked out. Not that Louis really cared. Why should he? Harry made it evident he didn’t care about him. Louis took another sip of his tea. Nope. No caring going on what so ever.

* * *

Louis was blissfully asleep. He was dreaming of being on a beautiful yacht, sunbathing as a very sexy cabana boy fed him gummy worms. This was truly the life. When all of a sudden a loud knock startled him from his dream. His eyes snapped open and he glared at his alarm clock. It was three in the morning. The knocking continued. Louis groaned and kicked off his covers and got out of bed. He opened his door to see Harry standing there biting his lip.

“Don’t tell me,” Louis rolled his eyes painfully slowly, “You’re fucking scared.”

Harry nodded sheepishly, “I’d go to Zayn’s room, but I don’t want him to think I’m being a baby.”

“You _are_ a baby,” Louis stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance, “Why are you even here?”

“Zayn said I could spend the night, since it was so late. It’s really dark in the living room and there’s weird noises.”

“That’d be the pipes, moron,” Louis folded his arms over his chest, “You’re interrupting my beauty sleep. Go away.”

“I don’t even know why I let Zayn talk me into watching scary movies,” Harry sighed hopelessly, “I hate scary movies.”

“Yeah, well. Sounds like a personal problem.”

“You’re right,” Harry nodded, “I shouldn’t have bothered you,” he slowly backed away from the door.

Louis let out an exasperated sigh, “Do you want some tea?” He offered begrudgingly.

“Would it be too much trouble?”

Yes. “No,” Louis pushed past Harry, “Not really. Still take it with lemon and honey?”

Harry nodded, slightly impressed that Louis remembered. Harry took a seat at one of the kitchen stools while Louis boiled the water. There was a silence between them except for the slight hum of the burner. Louis leaned against the kitchen counter as Harry fumbled with a pen he’d found on the counter. Neither one of them wanted to really say anything.

Finally Harry broke the silence, “Just so you know, I really had no choice in the matter. I know it hurt you. But it hurt me too.”

Louis scoffed, “Don’t even give me that.”

“Look,” Harry sighed, “When my dad kicked you out...he was so pissed, Lou. He...he _beat_ me, Louis. You don’t know what that was like for me. I was already mortified. He beat me and if that wasn’t enough, he took over everything so I’d have no contact with you. He checked my phone, my social media, everything. And I was terrified of him. I couldn’t approach you at school even if I wanted to. He’d find out. I knew he would. And I was so scared he’d do something to you like he’d done to me.”

Louis let out a breath. He had no idea that Harry’s dad had beaten him. Sure, he was a total prick, but Louis had no idea he’d go so far, “Haz, I didn’t know,” Louis walked over to the counter and leaned forward across from Harry. He placed a hand over his and said, “Really. I didn’t know.”

“I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you. I was a wreck, Lou. I was such a mess. But I was terrified of him. He watched me like a hawk. I never got a break from him until I graduated. But by then, things were all too late. You were off doing your thing and I just thought it’d be best to let you. I just wanted to be done with it all - the pain, heartache, everything. I should have tried harder. I know that now. Hell, he found out when were seventeen. I could have tolerated him for a few more months if it meant being with you. I just didn’t try hard enough.”

“No,” Louis shook his head, “Harry, I had no idea he hurt you. God, I want to fucking kill him!”

Harry cleared his throat, “I knew you were in living in New York. I ran into your Mum a while back. She told me. She said she didn’t blame me for anything that happened between our families. I wanted to come to New York. Not to seek you out. But just to see. You know. If we’re meant to be or something cheesy like that, we’d find a way of running into each other.”

“You work at my fucking club,” Louis shook his head, a smile crossing his face, “What are the fucking odds?”

“No idea,” Harry was smiling too, “But it’s pretty extraordinary.”

“Zayn says it’s fate,” Louis made a face, “I dunno much about that.”

“Zayn’s smart,” Harry shrugged, “Who’s to say it’s not fate? I mean really, like you said, what are the odds? I just thought maybe I’d see you on the street in passing or something. But I had no idea we’d be working at the same place. If I’d known it’d complicate things for you...I wouldn’t have taken the job. But I didn’t know. And I need to pay the rent.”

“It’s fine,” Louis shrugged, “I can’t control who works there and who doesn’t.”

“When I said tonight that I didn’t know why you were angry with me, I meant that I didn’t understand why you were being the way you were in that moment. You were being so...gentle and then you just turned cold again. I knew that I hurt you ten years ago. I’m not an idiot, you idiot,” Harry was smiling good naturedly and Louis couldn’t help but smile back.

He nodded, “Well...good. Because that pissed me off.”

“No kidding,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I have bruises thanks to you.”

“You used to love my bruises,” Louis bit the corner of his lip.

Harry blushed slightly and Louis turned back to the stove to check on the water. It’d finally come to a boil. He turned off the stove and poured the water into a mug. Louis squeezed in some honey and lemon juice as the tea bag steeped, then slid the mug to Harry.

“I was a pick,” Louis finally admitted, “I just...I got freaked out, okay. My last relationship was horrible. And between you and my ex, I just don’t want to get hurt again. I’m...guarded. And then you come back into my life and you just...you make me feel all these things all over again. And I want to kiss you and fuck you and hold you and it’s just making me dizzy. You’re making me dizzy. You’re making me lose my fucking mind.”

Harry smiled into his tea, “You know, no one knows us the way we know each other,” he said.

“It’s been so long,” Louis shook his head.

“Where do we even go from here?” Harry asked.

“No idea,” Louis ran a hand through his hair, “But for starters, you’re going to come sleep in my bed tonight. You’re not staying up all night freaking out because of a horror movie.”

“Thanks,” Harry blushed again and Louis felt his stomach fill with butterflies, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Sure I do,” Louis shrugged, “And tomorrow I’m kicking Zayn’s ass for showing you Saw.”

Harry laughed, “I missed us.”

“I missed us too,” Louis sighed.

“What we had - ten years ago - that was...that was real, wasn’t it?”

“Very much so.”

Harry nodded.

Louis put the pot away in the sink, “Hurry and finish your tea, love. You’re keeping me up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of past abuse
> 
> Finally updated! Whoo-hoo! Going through my older stories and reading and updating them. I've missed this one :)

"Hi," Harry looked up, bashfully through his lashes at Louis. His head was resting on Louis' shoulder, and Louis had his arm wrapped around Harry, holding him close. Together, they were lying in bed. Louis had turned off the light and they were about to fall asleep, but neither one of them could.

"Hey," Louis smiled down at the boy in his arms, "It's late."

"I don't care," Harry shrugged, "I've missed ten years of my best friend. Kind of want to talk. Catch up a bit."

The words "best friend" stuck with Louis. He flushed a little and held Harry closer, tighter, "Alright. Hey, tomorrow - if you want - I can kick Zayn out for the day. You can stay and we can just hang out, the two of us. Like old times," Louis bit his bottom lip. Like old times, minus the making out and sex. Right.

"I'd like that a lot, Lou," Harry smiled, using the familiar nickname that still made Louis' heart swell, "I'm so sorry for everything. I really am. I wanted to talk to you that day at school. I really wanted to tell you everything. I just was so frightened."

"Do you want to tell me about it now?" Louis asked, brushing Harry's hair slightly with his fingertips, knowing he loved that.

"I've never talked about it before to anyone really," Harry blushed, staring down at his hands, "Um...you remember. We were both naked and he came storming in. He yanked you off of me and I thought your arm was going to come out of the socket. And he told you to get out and that's when...he started in on me. He um...well he..." Harry took a deep breath before twisting out of Louis' arms and lifting his shirt slightly. There were scars lashing along his back.

"Hazza," Louis breathed, reaching out gently to brush his fingertips along the marks, "Oh my God."

"I wore makeup the other night to hide them. And that Kat Von D makeup is wonderful for concealing marks. On stage, no one will even notice. But yeah. That's what he did to me. All night long. And then I had to go to school the next day. And he told me he was watching me. And that if I ever tried to contact you - if I ever thought about you - he'd do even worse. And I was so terrified, Lou."

"If I had known..." Louis let out a pained breath. God, he wanted to destroy Harry's father. Wanted to fucking rip him apart for doing this to Harry, "I could have..."

"He'd probably have hurt you too," Harry sighed, pulling his shirt back down, "So I avoided you at all costs. Too terrified to speak up or to say anything. And then you graduated a few months after. And I figured I could finally start to try to forget you. Only I couldn't. I thought of you all the time. I had no idea where you were or what you were doing. But I thought of you constantly. And my dad never touched me again after that. And things kind of started to be okay again. Only they weren't. And after two years, I graduated too. And went off to school."

"Do you still talk to them? Your parents?" Louis asked.

Harry took a deep breath, "I ran into your mother awhile ago. She told me you'd come to New York to get a fresh start. And the idea sounded so lovely to me. A fresh start! And I wanted to see if maybe I would ever find you again. But I wasn't going to search you out or be creepy. I just wanted to see if fate was a thing or not. And so I packed up and moved out here. And I still talk to my mom sometimes. But not much. And I haven't spoken to my dad really since college. So there's that. It's really just me now. On my own. And I think that's okay."

"You're not on your own now though, babe," Louis reminded him, pulling him back in to cuddle, "You've got me. And you've got Zaynie now too."

"Thank you," Harry smiled, ducking his head into Louis' shoulder, "I missed you so much, Lou. You were my best friend in the whole world. I've never had anything with anyone else like I had with you. And I tried. I did. I dated around. But I never stopped thinking of you or wondering how you were. Found you on Facebook once. Considered messaging you, but didn't want to be a creep or stir up any old wounds."

"Well we found each other now," Louis played with Harry's curls again, "And better late than never, right? You don't have to be alone again, babe. Okay? I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You think I'm going to let you out of my life twice? Never."

Harry relaxed against Louis, "I'll never walk away from you again. Even if you're sick of me."

"Oh, I'll be sick of you alright, but never enough to want you gone from me."

"Can we really have a day tomorrow, just the two of us?" Harry asked, eyes wide and hopeful and Louis just wanted to kiss him. Right then and there. But no. He was not going to do anything that might mess this up. They'd only just reconnected. He wasn't going to rush into things. And he wasn't even sure what Harry wanted. So no. Thoughts of kissing would have to wait.

"Of course, sweetheart," Louis gave a curl a gentle tug, "We've got ten years to make up for."


End file.
